


Breathe It Back (Like Valium)

by ashavahishta



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-09
Updated: 2012-10-09
Packaged: 2017-11-16 02:33:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashavahishta/pseuds/ashavahishta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> <i>Sometimes when they’re separated all day they feel starved for touch, antsy and uncomfortable and itching for something they just can’t have. It’s like a buzz under Harry’s skin, an ache for Louis’ hands and his mouth that won’t go away until they can be with each other again.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe It Back (Like Valium)

After they film X-Factor on Sunday night, Louis has to be photographed outside of Eleanor's hotel so Harry goes home alone. He’s not that tired, considering all he really had to do today was chat with Nick for two hours and then walk across the X-Factor stage. Still, it’s a good feeling to be home, to change out of his tight jeans and heavy blazer and swap them for a loose tee and sweats. He calls his mum to chat for a bit, then sprawls out in front of the television with his laptop open on his chest.

Louis comes home a bit later, calling out a “Hey,” as the front door closes behind him. He smiles tiredly at Harry when he enters the living room, already shrugging his jacket off. “You look comfy,” Louis comments.

“Mmm,” Harry agrees lazily, following Louis’ movements with his eyes as Louis toes off his shoes and starts to unbutton his shirt. Louis often reaches a point in the day where he can’t stand any restrictive clothing; he’ll undress and change into comfortable clothes the moment he gets home. “How was it?” Harry asks.

Louis shrugs. “Fine. Same old. Lots of cameras, lots of yelling.”

“How long did you have to stay at the hotel with her before you could leave?”

“About half an hour,” Louis gives him a half smile. “She’s leaving in the morning.”

“Okay,” Harry says, and it’s upsetting that these kind of conversations are a part of their daily lives now, that they have to act out these ridiculous schemes, but they’re working through it.

Louis’ shirt is unbuttoned halfway by the time he’s crossing the room, slivers of golden skin showing where it gapes open. Harry doesn’t bother to hide the fact that he’s staring. Louis stops as he passes by the couch and Harry reaches out so their hands meet and their fingers tangle. “You okay?”

Louis squeezes his hand and smiles down at him. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. Just want to get changed.”

“Alright,” Harry plays with Louis’ fingers for a moment. “Hey, did you know Grey’s is back? New episode’s about to start.”

“Yeah?! Awesome, I’ll be back in a minute.”

He lets go of Harry’s hand and goes upstairs to their room while Harry shuts off his computer and sets it aside. A few minutes later he hears Louis’ footsteps again and his voice calling, "Do you want a cup of tea, darling?”

“Yes please!”

Louis returns to the living room soon enough, two mugs clutched in his hands. He’s soft and cuddly in grey sweatpants and Harry’s Ramones tee, barefoot, his glasses on. His hair is everywhere because he always destroys the quiff the moment he gets home, and it’s gone all ruffled and feathery, falling over his eyes. This is the Louis Harry loves the very, very best; messy and relaxed and _lovely_.

Louis hands Harry his tea as he sits down, immediately pressing into Harry’s space to tuck into his side so Harry swaps his tea to his other hand and wraps his arm around Louis’ shoulder. Louis folds his feet under himself and hums an appreciative noise as he settles, his compact little body a warm weight against Harry.

They’ll kiss hello in a minute but they’re already saying it now; with Louis’ hand resting on Harry’s knee and Harry’s arm around his shoulder. They’re pressed together all along their sides, and after a moment Louis turns his face into Harry’s neck and just breathes him in. Harry rests his chin on the top of Louis’ head and thinks about how their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces.

The show starts and they settle in even further, sipping their tea as Louis comments, “I don’t even remember what happened at the end of last season.”

(And Harry thinks about how hard it’s been the past few weeks, the lies they’ve told and the games they’ve played, and remembers that this is what he’s fighting for. It’s mundane and small; the chance to be the kind of couple who cuddles and drinks tea and watches medical dramas at ten on a Sunday night, but at the same time it’s _everything_ and he’ll keep playing management’s sadistic little games if it means he gets to keep this.)

When the episode is half over, when they’ve set their empty mugs down on the coffee table, Louis finally turns around and kisses Harry, soft and quick, and says, “Hey,”

Harry’s eyelids lower as his gaze flicks between Louis’ mouth and his eyes. A smile curves at the corners of his lips and he leans in to rub their noses together, murmuring, “Hey, yourself.” He catches Louis’ mouth in another kiss, teasing at the seam of Louis’ lips until they open for him. Louis sighs into the kiss and shifts, turning toward Harry and curling his hand around the nape of his neck, fingertips slipping into his curls.

They kiss again and again and again, soft and slow with their mouths warm from the tea, and Harry feels himself melting into it, any tension leftover from the day unwinding from his body. They let their hands roam, not desperate yet but touching just because they _can_. Sometimes when they’re separated all day they feel starved for touch, antsy and uncomfortable and itching for something they just can’t have. It’s like a buzz under Harry’s skin, an ache for Louis’ hands and his mouth that won’t go away until they can be with each other again. The feeling Harry gets when he can finally touch reminds him of the look on Zayn’s face when he gets his first cigarette in the morning; a mixture of relief and pleasure and satisfaction. He savors it, overindulges in it, his hands sliding under Louis’ shirt to pet the warm skin of his hips, his stomach, his chest, down the curve of his spine to stroke his lower back until Harry feels high on it, dopey and dizzy and boneless.

They can go forever when they’re like this; it’s so rare for them to just be able to touch and be close and take as much time as they need, making up for the long hours of the day when they couldn’t. It almost feels like they’re stocking up, overdosing on each other now so they can go without tomorrow.

Harry gently removes Louis’ glasses after awhile, Louis blinking at him with hazy blue eyes as Harry sets the glasses down on the table and pulls Louis into another kiss, Louis’ tongue warm and wet in his mouth and his palm cradling Harry’s jaw.

It feels like ages of kisses and slow touches, their hair mussed from running their fingers through it, their cheeks pink and their skin hot to the touch. Harry’s mouth feels swollen and sensitive when they finally pull away. He glances at the TV and his lips quirk in a grin. “We missed the end. Again.”

Louis giggles and nuzzles his face into Harry’s neck. “I don’t care.”

Harry rubs his shoulder and kisses Louis’ hair with a smile, his other hand following the curve of Louis’ back to dip beneath the waistband of his sweats. He feels Louis grin against his neck and Louis’ sharp teeth nip at him. “Oh, I see,” Louis says. “An hour of snogging and heavy petting and you think I’m easy for it?”

Harry lets his palms spread over the full roundness of Louis’ perfect ass, gripping at him with his fingers digging into the firm flesh. “Well...yes.”

Louis laughs and kisses his way from Harry’s neck, over his jawline to nibble at his ear and whisper, “Okay. Want you to fuck me tonight.”

Harry’s hands flex and he swallows. “Yeah?” he asks, his voice a little choked. “Been awhile.”

“I know,” Louis’ hand, which crept up under his shirt a long time ago, strokes over Harry’s chest and he thumbs at one of Harry’s nipples. He rocks his hips a little, whining when it makes Harry’s hands slide lower. “I’ve been craving your cock for days.”

Harry flushes instantly, heat traveling all over his body and his cock filling against Louis’ thigh. “Mmm?” he manages, his voice gone low and rumbling.

“Yeah,” Louis breathes, and he’s still nibbling maddeningly at Harry’s ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth while his thumb rubs Harry’s nipple again. “Been thinking about how good you feel, how big you are, your fingers opening me up, Haz, I want -” and he yelps as Harry’s finger slips down along the curve of his ass to press teasingly against his hole. “Oh, _fuck_ yes.”

Harry adds a little more pressure, his fingertip just barely pressing into the hot tightness of Louis’ body,and it’s dry but so promising. Louis leans back into it like he can’t help it, then groans and starts to climb off of Harry. “Okay. Shit. We need lube. And a bed. And - less clothes. Now, please.”

Harry laughs and stands with him, pausing long enough to turn the TV off before swooping down and kissing Louis hard and hot. Usually Harry’s good about compensating for their height difference, cranes his neck or hunches his shoulders so Louis doesn’t have to lean up so far. But sometimes Harry _likes_ taking advantage, likes wrapping his arms tight around Louis’ narrow waist and pulling him up so all Louis can do is rise up on his toes and hold onto Harry for dear life. He whimpers softly against Harry’s mouth when Harry grips him even tighter and his back arches, pressing his hips against Harry. Harry squeezes Louis’ waist and licks into his mouth and he’s honestly not sure if Louis’ feet are even touching the ground anymore, he’s holding onto him so tight.

Harry starts to walk them both backwards toward the stairs, Louis’ arms tight around his neck, their mouths barely parting. They stumble up the steps, breaking off to giggle as they trip over each other, fighting to get their shirts off. When they finally get to the top landing they’re down to just pants and Harry lets his hands wander down Louis’ back, gripping his ass for a greedy moment before lifting him up by the back of his thighs. Louis gasps but wraps his legs around Harry’s waist, mutters, “Show-off,” into Harry’s neck. Harry squeezes his soft, strong thighs and carries him down the hallway, responds, “Not sorry,” and throws Louis onto their bed.

Louis grins up at him, bright and happy and he scoots up the bed, Harry prowling after him on his knees. Louis grabs at him, pulls Harry down with a hand to the back of his neck and arching up into a kiss. Harry rubs his hand down Louis’ side, palming at the curve of his hipbone and murmuring a breathless, “Hips, love,” so Louis lifts off the bed, allowing Harry to tug his pants down and throw them off the bed.

When Louis is finally naked Harry just has to take a moment to _look_ at him, at those bright blue eyes and the angles of his face, at every inch of soft golden skin and the _shape_ of him. Fuck, Harry will never get over Louis’ tight little body, will never not want to dig his fingers into his soft hips or bite his thick thighs, he’ll never not be entranced by the bow of Louis’ spine and the way it curves out into that truly _unbelievable_ ass.

“Christ, you’re so fucking beautiful,” Harry croaks in one of his (not infrequent) bursts of honesty.

Louis smiles up at him and blushes all down his neck. Harry has to kiss it, feel the hot skin under his lips. He follows the flush over Louis’ throat and his collarbones, down his chest before he takes one of Louis’ nipples into his mouth and sucks gently. Louis draws a deep, shaky breath and arches into the touch, his hand scrabbling at Harry’s pants. “Harry, take your goddamn pants off.”

Harry does, barely managing it before Louis is pulling him down again and opening his mouth for a filthy wet kiss, fucking his tongue into Harry’s mouth. Louis flips them over, gets Harry on his back and straddles him. He ducks his head to dot kisses down Harry’s chest and stomach, mouths at his pale hipbones and sucks little bites into Harry’s thighs.

Louis gives in to Harry’s wordless pleas and sucks his cock into his mouth, not deep but wet and warm and teasing. Harry watches, always watches because Louis is _gorgeous_ when he sucks cock. His cheeks hollow to show off sharp bones, his eyes go glassy dark blue and his skin flushes prettily. Louis really enjoys it, too, always goes calm and pliant when he’s got Harry in his mouth, closes his eyes blissfully like it’s exactly where he wants to be.

He doesn’t suck Harry for long, seems to mostly be doing it to tease, and pulls off after awhile. He props his chin on Harry’s hip, smiles up at him and says, sweetly, “Can you fuck me now?”

Harry hisses out a “ _Yes,”_ and fumbles for lube, tugs Louis up and into his lap as his hand slips down between Louis’ cheeks to rub at his hole. It’s slick and easy now and Louis turns his face into Harry’s neck, whimpers quiet and needy.

He gets Louis ready, slow because it has been awhile, Louis still straddling his lap and they’re kissing, Harry’s slick fingers just gently opening him up. Louis practically melts into his arms, almost sobbing into Harry’s neck as he adds a third finger and crooks them up toward his prostate. Louis starts rocking on his lap, trying to fuck himself onto Harry’s fingers and saying, “Harry, Harry,” with his voice splintered with need and his cock hard between their stomachs.

Harry is slow about it, because he loves when he can get Louis like this, desperate and shameless about it. He fingers Louis until Louis seems ready to cry he wants Harry’s cock so bad, until he’s clawing at Harry’s shoulders and biting his neck and _begging_ for it because three fingers isn’t enough Harry, _please_.

Finally Harry gives in, reassures him with a quiet “It’s okay babe, you’re gonna get it, turn around for me.” He encourages Louis to turn so his back is to Harry’s chest and Harry’s hands travel down his sides, petting lightly before sliding up his thighs and holding them open. Louis’ ass is cradled against his hips, settled firmly in his lap.

Harry reaches down to wrap his fingers around Louis’ cock, stroking him slow as his cock nudges at Louis’ hole and Louis is practically writhing for it, trying to move down onto Harry’s cock and up into his hand at the same time. “Harry,” Louis says again, voice rasping and Harry lets go of his cock, lays his hand flat on Louis’ waist, holding him steady as he finally starts to push up into him. “Shh, there you go,” he soothes. Louis sighs out a deep, “Ohhh,” and his head falls back in relief like that’s all he wanted, like he just _needed_ Harry inside him and now he can breathe.

Harry fucks him like that, cradling Louis close to his chest, hands tight on Louis’ hips as he thrusts up into him. He starts out slow but deep with his mouth open and panting into Louis’ shoulder and Louis just has to take it, going pliant in Harry’s arms. His head falls back against Harry’s shoulder and he moans, his cock hard against his belly and already blurting precome. Harry can tell he’s not going to last, Louis needed this too much and he’s already tightening up around Harry's cock in tight little squeezes that make Harry’s breath stutter.

He curls his fingers around Louis’ dick again, long fingers stroking him off hot and tight while Louis bucks desperately into the touch. He’s making the most beautiful noises, these broken little moans every time Harry’s cock gets into him deep. Harry kisses Louis’ neck, his ear, whispers, “C’mon love, come for me,” and Louis just _does_ , goes all tight and still and then shudders, spills all over Harry’s fingers with a gasp of his name.

Harry can’t help it, he speeds up, fucks Louis faster and a bit rough with Louis' body still so fucking tight around him, his muscles fluttering in aftershock. Louis’ sensitive, whimpers at the overstimulation but he moves with Harry, his body clamping down on Harry until Harry comes in him. He bites Louis’ shoulder to muffle a groan, his long fingers leaving indents in Louis’ hips.

They’ve barely caught their breath before Louis turns his head and kisses Harry, lazy and wet as Harry’s hands move down his body to gently disentangle them. Louis lets Harry turn him over so they’re chest to chest, their legs tangling together. He’s smiling into each kiss and Harry strokes his sweaty fringe off his forehead, holds Louis close even though they’re sticky and sweaty and too warm.

They both mumble half-heartedly about cleaning up but Harry knows they won’t be moving any time soon. Louis is already half asleep, sated and dopey like he always is after he’s been really well fucked. He rubs his cheek against Harry’s chest and then stays there, his eyes closing and his body going heavy. Harry pulls the sheets over them, breathes a quiet “Love you,” into Louis’ hair and lets his eyes fall shut.

 


End file.
